SPEECH 




JOHN THOMPSON BROWN, 

n 


OF PETERSBURG, 


UPON THE ELECTION OF 


A SENATOR IN CONGRESS; 


DELIVERED IN THE 


HOUSE OF DELEGATES OF VIRGINIA, 


JANUARY 29th, 1835. 



PRINTED BY THOMAS W. WHITE 


1835. 

















4 










SPEECH. 


Mr. Brown said, he trusted the house would believe him sincere 
when he declared, that nothing less than an imperative sense of duty, 
could have induced him, at that late stage of a protracted debate, to throw 
himself upon their indulgence, for the purpose of explaining his views of 
the principles involved in the official act they were about to perform. If 
the importance of the occasion had not been greatly exaggerated, and the 
interest with which the public were looking to that election, were really 
as intense as they had been led to suppose, the result must have an exten¬ 
sive influence on future political events and party combinations, within 
the state. There had already been movements on that floor, which, 
although it could not be said they were so intended, were nevertheless so 
well calculated for effect before the people, that it could scarcely be doubt¬ 
ed they would be industriously used in the coming elections. The oppo¬ 
nents of Mr. Leigh, professing to be anxious to refer the matter again to 
the people, had lorced upon his friends the responsibility of rejecting 
a proposition for postponing the election until the next session of the 
assembly ; and it would be of no surprise to him, if, while the merit of 
great deference for the popular will was claimed in the one quarter, the im¬ 
putation should be made of a disposition, in another quarter, to evade and 
set it at naught. He trusted, however, an intelligent people would see 
through the thin disguise. What ground was there for alleging that they 
had not already decided the question ? When the election of Mr. Leigh 
occurred last winter, it was said, on that floor, that at the ensuing April 
elections, the people, in a voice of thunder, would pronounce a sentence of 
condemnation on the act; but the elections came and the act was ap¬ 
proved. The subject was warmly agitated throughout the summer and 
autumn, and it was confidently proclaimed that the people, stimulated by 
subsequent developments, would reverse the judgment of April through 
the medium of instructions, to be made out in time for the meeting of the 
assembly; but when it was proposed to go into the election at an earlier 
day of the session, further delay was asked, and the assurance given, that 
the people were moving, and, in the course of a few weeks, would have 
manifested their will in a manner not to be misunderstood. The postpone¬ 
ment was agreed to—the day proposed by the opponents of Air. Leigh 
was fixed upon—it had arrived, and still it was gravely asserted that the 
wishes of the people were unknown and could only be ascertained through 
the results of the approaching elections. What assurance was there, he 
would ask, that they would then be ascertained? It was said that the peo¬ 
ple, at the late elections, Avere deluded and misled by a panic, but avouM 
there be no such delusion at the ensuing elections? Could it be believed 
that the public mind Avould then be more free, than on the former occa¬ 
sion, from that passion and irritation which, in the estimation of some, had 
so much clouded its perceptions? Were not gentlemen even then engaged 
in lashing up to a still more fearful pitch, the already painful excitement 
of the people, by endeavoring to persuade them that the all important 
right of instruction was about to be Avrested from them? Suppose they 
should succeed in their object, and the people, under the influence of this 
counter panic, should return a majority of the opponents of Air. Leigh to 
the assembly, might not his friends at the ensuing session, Avith equal 
plausibility, insist on a further postponement of the election, and claim 
the benefit of a third trial at the polls? He Avould not consent, with¬ 
out an indication of such a Avish on the part of the people themselves, 



4 


to subject them to repeated and harassing agitations, in order to subserve 
the purposes of any party, or minister to the ambition of any aspirants. 

He (Mr. Brown) yielded to no man in his respect and deference—he 
might add, affection, for the people. He looked upon them, not only as the 
repository of all political power, but as imbued, in the mass, with the highest 
attributes of justice, generosity, and virtue. They seldom erred, even 
under the influence of a transient excitement—they never inflicted an in¬ 
tentional injury, and never failed, when conscious of the fact, to redress, 
to the full extent of their power, a wrong done either by themselves or 
others, to a faithful public servant. Dreary indeed, would be the pros¬ 
pect of the statesman, if, in the midst of the difficulties that beset him, the 
calumny with which he was assailed, the vindictive rivalry by which he 
was often stricken down, he could not turn for countenance and protec¬ 
tion to that benignant and resistless multitude, whose happiness he had 
nobly struggled to promote. Brief as was that portion of his own life, 
which, with the approbation of his constituents, he intended devoting to 
the public service, it should be briefer still, were it not for the cheering 
assurance which he felt, that whilst he honestly endeavored to discharge 
his duty, he might safely rely, even in the hour of his greatest discourage¬ 
ment, upon the support of a just and enlightened community. God forbid 
that this redeeming influence should ever be withdrawn from the public 
counsels, that extensive field tor selfish machination, where, but for the 
awe-inspiring presence of the people, man would prey upon his fellow- 
man, and restless spirits forever torn by the furies of ambition, might 
march unmolested, along the path of the irguilt. 

He said, he not only regarded the virtues of the people with admiration, 
but he felt an unfeigned deference for the wisdom of their opinions; he 
was ready, at all times to be governed by them, when known, and would 
throw no obstacles in the way of their expression. “When Jehovah is 
abroad, let the nations of the earth be still,” was the language of a sublime 
reverence, and he would say, when the people, whose voice was, to the 
representative, the voice of God, were about to speak, it was the duty of 
their servants to listen in respectful silence. He had given practical evi¬ 
dences that he neither feared nor deprecated the commands of his constitu¬ 
ents ; for when they were engaged in ascertaining the public will, he had 
carefully, perhaps too scrupulously, forborne exerting even the influence 
which belonged to him, in common with others, as a citizen, over their 
proceedings. Whatever the conclusion at which they should arrive, and 
however painfully it might affect himself, he had never for a moment 
thought of bringing his own views and interests in conflict with those of 
the people, to whom every right appertained, whilst to himself there be¬ 
longed but one, the right of resignation. He had never discouraged the 
interposition of the people, and he had never invited it, being ready and 
willing, under all conceivable circumstances, to execute, according to the 
best of his judgment and capacity, whatever portion of the representative 
trust his constituents might do him the honor to confide to his discretion. 
He should cheerfully acquiesce in their mandate, whenever they should 
think proper to utter it; but in the absence of such a guide, he felt it 
equally incumbent on him to shrink from no just responsibility, and not 
to halt in the plain and usual path of his duty, from an affected incapacity 
which, if it really existed, would prove him unfit for the office he held. 
Much as the people might differ in their wishes as to the result of this 
election, he thought there were none who did not expect, and but few who 
did not desire, that it should be made without further delay. No member 
of that body had asked a postponement of it on his own account. He was 
ready, for his own part, to enter upon it, and he believed, in his conscience, 
that he was prepared to do justice to his constituents. They had been 
much divided in opinion upon the subject; but the conclusion to which he 
had brought his mind was, that a majority of them either wished him to 
vote for Mr. Leigh, or designed to leave him free to act according to his 


4 


5 


own discretion, with a full knowledge of the course he was likely to pur¬ 
sue under such circumstances. He should not state to the house the rea¬ 
sons which had brought him to the conclusion that he was not instructed, 
because the minority, who might entertain a different opinion, were not 
piesent to vindicate their cause, and he would not avail himself of the 
advantages of his position, to paint the man on the back of the lion, 
when if that noble animal held the pencil, perhaps the picture might be 
leveised. It was a matter of fact, in relation to which he was responsi¬ 
ble to his constituents, and to his constituents only. To them he should 
be called upon, at an early day, to render an account of the grounds on 
which he had acted, and should the reckoning be unsatisfactory, he could 
not escape the heavy penalty of his disobedience. If they believed he had 
mistaken their will, they would probably expel him from their service] 
but should they find that he had wantonly and wilfully disregarded it, 
they, would fix a mark upon him, politically, which should not only attend 
him through life, but serve as a perpetual warning to all who might suc¬ 
ceed him in his office. And here, he said, was to be found the true sanction, 
the real safeguard, of the right of instruction—in the frequency of elec¬ 
tions—in the exclusion of all who did not explicitly acknowledge its obli¬ 
gations—in the expulsion of the disobedient—in that self-love which 
would always lead the representative, rather to seek for, and effectuate the 
will of the majority, upon whom he is absolutely dependant for support, 
than to thwart it through caprice or ambition. Some gentlemen, how- 
, ever, seemed to entertain the strongest apprehensions that this main pillar 
of the republican edifice was about to be thrown down by the rude arm 
of force, or the more dexterous contrivances of fraud. So excessive, in¬ 
deed, were their fears, that they required every thing which purported to 
be the instructions of a majority, to be forthwith acknowledged as such— 
so imminent was the danger with which the right was threatened, that 
they appeared unwilling to deny its exercise even to a minority of the 
constituency. 

The gentleman from Rockbridge had made an elaborate and beautiful 
vindication of the right of the people to instruct their representatives at 
any time and in any mode they might, in their good pleasure, select. But 
had any one assailed the principle which was so spiritedly defended? It 
would seem that the gentleman was entertaining the house with a mimic 
war, in which he erected a fortress for his enemy, placed him of course, in the 
most vulnerable position, and then, opening his batteries with all imagina¬ 
ble form, proceeded to show with what skill and grace he could demolish 
the frowning battlement. How unfortunate for the pertinency of his 
really splendid argument, that someone had not put forth the heresy he so 
stoutly combatted. Of all things on earth, there was nothing a partizan 
loved so much as rashness in an opponent. He had no compliments for 
the wary and cautious; but, let his antagonist boldly disown some funda¬ 
mental truth, and he was deafening in his plaudits of the open, fearless, and 
chivalrous avowal. Let the morality of the decalogue be denied, and, with 
warmest commendation of the frankness of the impeachment, he would 
undertake, with the utmost complacency, to demonstrate the sinfulness of 
committing murder. In short, let his adversary only lift the scales of his 
armor enough to allow the poisoned arrow to enter, and he would engage 
that the death song should be sweet and glorious from the lips of the victor. 
Such, however, was the perverseness of the friends of Mr. Leigh, that they 
had refused to occupy the position so kindly marked out for them. He 
had heard no member of that body deny the right of instruction. It was 
true, much had been said about the circumstances under which it had been 
recently exercised, and of the abuses which, in many places, had attended 
it. It was not regarded by some as a spontaneous movement on the part 
of the people, but the ingenious device of disappointed leaders, for cajoling 
them into a reversal of their judgment at the polls. The most earnest 
remonstrances had been addressed to the people in order to dissuade them 


6 


F 

from adopting, as a party weapon of habitual use, this mode of carrying a 
favorite point. But he had yet to find the individual who, admitting the 
right of instruction at all, did not acknowledge that, if after all the reasons 
addressed to their discretion, the people should insist on pursuing this mode, 
the representative, when satisfied of the fact that a majority had concurred, 
was not bound to submit to the decree. Even if the contrary doctrine had 
been held, the ultimate security of the right would not have been impaired, 
for a reason most forcibly expressed by the gentleman from Rockbridge, 
and directly in point, although not so intended. He had said that the argu¬ 
ment was with the representative—the power with the people. That was 
perfectly true, and it dispelled, by a word, all the phantoms of his teem¬ 
ing imagination—for no right, was ever yet in danger of being wrested 
from its possessors, where they had the power and the virtue to defend it. 
Agents, temporarily invested with authority, might draw refined distinc¬ 
tions, try conclusions, and adjust the balance according to their own views 
of propriety, but, after all, the people, Brennus-like, would throw the sword 
of their power into the scale, and establish their preponderance. He be¬ 
lieved that the right of instruction, which he acknowledged in its utmost 
latitude, was one of the most important privileges of the citizen, and, at the 
same time, that it was held by the most certain and safe of all tenures. It 
was inherent in the very principle of representation, and as long as the 
elective franchise existed, it could no more be divested of this incident, 
than the human body could be stripped of its nerves. 

Let gentlemen, therefore, lay aside their apprehensions, and discharge 
the duty their constituents had devolved on them. The constitution called 
for the election of a senator—the usual period of making it had arrived, and 
he doubted not the people would demand a better reason than had yet been 
assigned, from those who should persist in creating a vacancy, at this inte¬ 
resting conjuncture, in the public councils. It was certainly no pleasant 
task they had to perform, and, for his own part, it would be painful for him 
to give, as he should, a vote that would be unpalatable to a large and re¬ 
spectable portion of his constituents. But he could not believe that a pro¬ 
longation of the controversy would either vary the result, or reconcile the 
objections of the minority ; and still less was it to be expected, whilst there 
was any thing like an equality of parties, that defeat would be admitted by 
either, or the issue rendered more certain. Would not gentlemen feel 
that they had incurred a fearful responsibility, if, contrary to all precedent 
or example within the commonwealth, for the doubtful chances of a party 
triumph, they should plunge the country again into such a paroxysm of ex¬ 
citement as had lately prevailed? Could they reconcile it to themselves, 
wantonly and unnecessarily, as he must needs think it, to stir up the dying 
embers of the conflagration, and light anew the torch of discord amongst 
the people? From the deep impression the question had made on the po¬ 
pular feeling, it was one on which to “ make or mar” the fortunes of poli¬ 
ticians, and the boldest amongst them might well regret that he was call¬ 
ed upon to settle it. But, if sacrifices were to be made—if bosoms must 
bleed—should they not rather bare their own to the stroke, than give back 
the daggers to the people, and force them to continue the exterminating 
conflict? It was time, he said, that the peace of society, too long and too 
rudely disturbed, should be restored, and as it could only be done by the 
decision of that election, he trusted it would not be further delayed, and 
that, in deciding it, every member should vote according to what he con¬ 
scientiously believed to be the will of his constituents. 

Mr. B. said, with the indulgence of the house, he would now proceed 
to assign his reasons for voting for Mr. Leigh. He had always regarded 
him as belonging to the republican party; and the efforts which had been 
made of late, to prove the contrary, had by no means changed his opinions. 
In the early part of Mr. Jefferson’s administration, he was a spirited and 
patriotic member of the democratic family, as was attested by various reso¬ 
lutions and speeches in the popular meetings of the day. Disapproving of 


7 


the embargo and other restrictive measures of that and the succeeding' ad¬ 
ministration, he attached himself to what was called the Randolph party, 
a scion from the republican stem, and so continued until the declaration of 
Avar in 1812, which having opposed, in the first instance as premature, he 
afterwards supported by his personal services in the field. At a later pe¬ 
riod, he Avas found heartily co-operating Avith the republican party in the 
support of Mr.. Crawford for the presidency. Failing in the effort to ele¬ 
vate that individual, it Avas Avell known, that Virginia, somewhat suddenly 
and unexpectedly, resolved on supporting General Jackson against Mr. 
Adams, not from original preference, but avoAvedly as a choice of evils. 
Mr. Leigh did not folloAv the state, but remained, in a great measure, neu¬ 
tral in the contest, from considerations which it might not be difficult to 
conjecture, when it Avas remembered that he Avas more deeply committed 
against the fitness of Gen. Jackson than any man in the commonwealth, 
by his letters published several years before, under the signature of Alger¬ 
non Sidney, the sentiments of which, at the time of their appearance, Avere 
amply sustained by public opinion. It would be seen, therefore, that Mr. 
L. had on some occasions differed from the republican party in regard to 
men, sometimes in regard to measures,—and that he presumed was the 
c< head and front” of his offences—but Avhere Avas the evidence that he had 
ever differed on the ground of principle? Mr. B. said he should refer to 
no other evidences of Mr. Leigh’s opinions than were in the possession of 
the public, and if they Avere not more numerous or explicit, it Avas owing 
to the fact that he had long kept aloof from politics, and devoted himself 
chiefly to the labors of his profession. There Avas enough, however, to 
satisfy all who Avere open to conviction. In his celebrated report on the 
right of the assembly, to instruct their senators in congress, adopted at the 
session of 1811-12, he reviewed the resolutions of’98, and quoted, with ap¬ 
probation, their most important principles—amongst other things, broadly 
asserting the sovereignty of the states. In his Mecklenburg correspon¬ 
dence of 1833, he declared himself “ loyal to all our institutions, state and 
federal”—that the surest Avay to preserve the federal government in its 
strength and purity, Avas “ to confine its action Avithin the limits, both as 
to means and purposes, prescribed for it by the constitution,” “ and not 
only to avoid the assumption of poAvers not delegated to it, but to abstain 
from the exercise of doubtful poAvers, and never to pervert the powers 
that are granted to purposes different from those for Avhich they were grant¬ 
ed.” In the debate which occurred at the time of his election to the Senate 
of the United States, it was stated, in his behalf, that he Avas “opposed to 
the exercise of any poAver by the general government, over the subject of 
internal improvement—that he Avas opposed to a tariff of protection on 
constitutional and other grounds—that he had always been in favor of a 
strict construction of the federal constitution, and an enemy to encroach¬ 
ment in every form.” In the same debate it Avas stated, by authority de¬ 
rived from .a conversation Avith him, that he thought the force bill “ both 
unconstitutional and unAvise;” that he did not concur in the South Caro¬ 
lina doctrine of nullification, and “ had been sorry for the practical exercise 
of it, but had no idea of persecuting the South Carolinians on that account.” 
Was there any thing in these principles, he would ask, that proved Mr. 
Leigh, in the estimation of Virginia, a Federalist? 

Doubts had been expressed of the sincerity of Mr. Leigh’s opposition to 
a national bank, and the country had been deafened with clamor on the 
subject, but with Avhat justice, let a feAV reminiscences sIioav. The report 
of 1811, above referred to, draAvn forth by the opposition to the national 
bank, affirmed the unconstitutionality of such an institution. In his ad ¬ 
dress to the citizens of Richmond, in 1824, on the subject of a convention, 
he alluded to the hesitation and distrust with which Virginia, much in the 
rear in that respect of other states, had, in 1804, introduced the banking 
system into the state, by incorporating the Virginia Bank, and lamented 
the evils Avhich he apprehended from paper money. When elected to the 


8 


senate, one of his friends declared, in the debate, under the authority ol a 
recent conversation with him, that he had always believed a national bank 
unconstitutional. He (Mr. B.) had avowed on the same occasion, that he 
gave his vote tor Mr. L. from a confident belief that he would be “ ready 
at all times, to oppose the establishment of the present, or any other na¬ 
tional bank.” But there was a declaration by Mr. Leigh himself, in the 
Senate of the United States, made in the course of the debate on Mr. Web¬ 
ster’s bill, tor extending the bank charter, which of itself, placed the mat¬ 
ter beyond all doubt, "it read as follows: “ knowing what was expected 
of me when I was elected, representing the sovereignty of the state, and 
informed as I am of her opinion and her will, even if I entertained a differ¬ 
ent opinion, l should be incapable of so far misrepresenting her, as to vote 
for a re-charter of the Bank of the United States, for any length of time, 
how r ever short, or with any modifications whatever. But in truth, 1 con¬ 
cur in the opinion of my constituents on the constitutional question, and 
that entirely and exactly.” Here was an avowal so explicit, so complete, 
as to leave nothing to be added, and nothing to be explained away. He 
would confidently submit it to the candid to say, whether it was suscepti¬ 
ble of any possible qualification that would make it reconcilable with Mr. 
Leigh’s integrity and honor, which none w ould call in question, to vote for 
a re-charter of the bank. He knew that Mr. Leigh, in a spirit of prophecy, 
had indulged in speculations as to the probable course of things in relation 
to a national bank, and his remarks had been seized upon by partizans, as 
the means of throwing a shadow of doubt over his intentions. But was 
he to be denounced for predicting evil? Who that loved his country, had 
not, at times, felt painful forebodings in regard to the future? Who that 
remembered the long duration of the Roman republic, or that of Venice, 
with the snows of a thousand winters on her head, and then looked at the 
rapid progress of our own government in prodigality and corruption, did 
not tremble for the fate of this beautiful fabric which we had fondly hoped 
would prove imperishable? And, should it be said, that he who foretold 
evil had thereby contributed to produce it? On the contrary, w'ere not the 
rights of the people least exposed when their vigilance was aroused by the 
prospect of an attack? And, did he not better deserve their confidence 
who, seeing danger approaching, warned them of the unwelcome truth, 
than he who should lull them into a false security, and treacherously minis¬ 
tering to their hopes, proclaim “ all’s well,” when the assassin was at 
hand. 

A charge, he said, had been extensively circulated, that Mr. Leigh, in 
a letter, written some years ago, and lately brought to light, had declared 
his approval of the alien law of ’98, and was thus obnoxious to the sin of 
federalism. That charge, however, was much too broad for the fact. It 
was well known that the republican party opposed that law on various 
grounds, and upon none so strenuously as the consideration, that, in its de¬ 
tails, it clothed the executive with powers dangerous to the trial by jury, 
the rights of the states, and the liberties of the citizen. That the presi¬ 
dent should have the power to decide who was an alien, and who a citi¬ 
zen—who was disaffected to the government, and whoJoyal—to convict on 
his own suspicion merely, and inflict the punishment olf exile at his will 
and pleasure; thus uniting in his person, legislative, judicial and execu¬ 
tive functions, very properly created alarm and awakened an indignant 
spirit of opposition. But it should be observed, that to these details, to all 
the provisions of that particular act, Mr. Leigh had expressly withheld 
his assent, and had merely declared his opinion in favor of the general 
principle, that every government must have the power to protect itself 
against the machinations of aliens, whether belonging to friendly or hostile 
nations. The republican party admitted such a power in relation to alien 
enemies, as an incident of the war power,—and it did not appear that they 
would not have admitted such a power in either the state or federal govern¬ 
ment, in regard to aliens belonging to friendly nations, provided it were to 


9 


have been enforced in a constitutional manner, and by the same forms as 
against treasonable citizens. That Mr. L. would have enforced it in any 
other way, there was not the slightest reason to believe; and the only 
question left for doubt was, where he considered the power to have been 
lodged—whether in the state or federal government. 

Mr. B. said, an attempt had been made to create an impression among 
Western Virginians, that Mr. L. was unfriendly to them, and in one of 
his speeches in the convention, had used insulting language respecting 
them. So far as this idea was countenanced by his course in the conven¬ 
tion, it was only necessary to remind the west, that he was faithfully repre¬ 
senting the opinions of his constituents; and had he done otherwise, he 
would as much have deserved and received their reprehension, as would 
a western delegate for supporting the mixed basis. The imputation of his 
having compared the day laborers of the west to the slaves of Eastern Vir¬ 
ginia, had been so directly met and triumphantly refuted by the gentleman 
jfrom Augusta, (Mr. Craig,) that it was useless for him to dwell upon it. 
It was an imputation so unjust and absurd, that but for the distorted me¬ 
dium through which the remark was viewed, in consequence of the excite¬ 
ment which prevailed at the time, he was convinced it never would have 
been noticed. Although now revived for party purposes, the people of 
the west, candid and generous, as he knew them to be, would inquire into 
the truth, and not allow themselves to be betrayed by demagogues into an 
act of injustice. They would find that Mr. Leigh was dealing in abstract 
speculations—illustrating a theory in political economy ; and lest he should 
be misapprehended, was careful enough to add, “ slaves, indeed, are not, 
and never will be comparable with the hardy peasantry of the mountains, 
in intellectual powers, in moral worth, in all that determines man’s degree 
in the moral scale,” &c. In what then did he think them comparable?— 
Why only in this—that“ in every civilized country under the sun, some 
there must be, who labor for their daily bread,” and in Eastern Virginia, 
slaves supplied that labor which was elsewhere done by the “ peasantry or 
day laborers,” of whom there were “some” (only some ) beyond the 
mountains. If he wronged them in saying that constant toil prevented 
them from entering “into political affairs,” he did himself equal injustice, 
for he added that he was the slave of his profession, the drudgery of which 
had, in like manner, unfitted him for “ turning his mind to the duties of 
the statesman.” As a further evidence that he meant no disrespect, he said, 
“ I have as sincere feelings of regard for that people, as any man who lives 
among them.” He found an early opportunity of attesting his sincerity; 
for, coming into the house of delegates at the first session under the new 
constitution, he saw the evils the west were suffering from the unsettled 
condition of the titles to lands, and applied himself at once for their relief. 
He declared that they ought not to submit to such a state of things—-that 
they ought rather to fight than to submit to it, and in such a cause he 
would fight for them. He did not confine himself to empty professions, 
but devised, with great labor, a system by which, through the relinquish¬ 
ment of delinquent lands forfeited to the state, the titles of junior patentees 
might be confirmed. He did what was of more importance still, in carry¬ 
ing through the house by his influence, what had often been vainly at¬ 
tempted by the west, a law reducing the period of limitations of real 
actions—a measure of more value to that people, than perhaps, all other 
acts of the legislature ever passed, and which of itself constituted him 
their greatest benefactor. In his Mecklenburg correspondence in 1833, 
he gave renewed evidence of his good will for the west, in the following 
terms: “ I would most joyfully surrender all the hopes of my ambition, 
(it would in truth be a very trivial sacrifice,) for the attainment of the 
single object of obliterating the geographical division of parties, that at 
present distracts and enfeebles Virginia, and of restoring concord and co¬ 
operation once more between the east and the west.” Well and truly 
might he say, as he did in one of his speeches in the convention, “attach- 
9 


10 


men! to this, my native state, to every toot of her soil, to every interest ol 
all her citizens, has been my ruling passion from my youth.” 

Mr. Leigh had been called an aristocrat; but in what act of his life— 
in what sentiment that he had uttered, was his aristocracy apparent? He 
had said in the convention, “ It is the first and the highest of all social 
blessings, to live under a regular, free, representative, republican govern¬ 
ment.” He there gave also a practical illustration of his respect lor that 
fundamental principle of democracy, the obligation on the representative 
to do the will of his constituents. In contending for a mixed basis of 
representation and a restricted suffrage, he was obeying the general voice 
of his constituents, from whom addresses, thanks, and exhortations, were 
constantly pouring in upon him. If he, for this, was to be charged with 
aristocracy, let the people themselves share the odium with him. Almost 
every member from .Eastern Virginia, Randolph, Giles, Barbour, and 
others, were contending, side by side with him, for the same measures, 
and yet he, of all, was now to be selected as the object of reproach, as the 
enemy of the non-freeholder, for no other reason than that the supremacy 
of his genius made him most conspicuous. If the non-freeholder, in the 
hour of his dominion, were disposed, instead of burying the past in obli¬ 
vion, to visit his vengeance on those who had denied him justice, let him 
not select as the sole object of his retribution, one, who although among 
the boldest and strongest, was also amongst the most magnanimous, and, 
in the end, the most conciliatory of his opponents. 

Of all the objections made against Mr. Leigh, that of being an enemy 
of the poor, had the least foundation, and had been used with most effect. 
Mr. B. had often heard, that in his youth, lie was a general favorite of the 
people, a fervid and eloquent declaimer, and of uncommon ability in 
swaying the passions of the multitude. Although age and experience 
might have stiffened his carriage, and given a Roman severity to his sen¬ 
timents, if language did not err, they had neither chilled his sympathies, 
nor extinguished his native attachment to the people. In the convention 
he exclaimed, “ The last hope of the republic rests in that class—and 
thank heaven, it yet constitutes the great mass of the people,”—“ the 
honest, hard-working yeomanry of this country, who hitherto have fed, 
clothed, protected and sustained society.” No man, of whatever prepos¬ 
sessions, could read his description, uttered on the same occasion, of the 
poor freeholder-—of his modest manners, his simple virtues, his sturdy in¬ 
dependence, his high-toned patriotism, without feeling that the picture 
came fresh from a heart warm not only with respect, but affection, for the 
humble and lowly of the human family. 

Mr. B. said, it was no part of his purpose to represent Mr. Leigh as 
perfect; but leaving to his opponents, what might be to them, the pleas¬ 
ing task of recounting his faults, he Avould say, for his own part, that if 
those faults were ten-fold greater than he believed them, there was a con¬ 
sideration involved in that election which would induce him still to give 
him his vote—a consideration, to his mind, of paramount importance, in 
comparison with which the merits of individuals dwindled into insignifi¬ 
cance. The circumstances under which Mr. Leigh was placed in the 
senate, were, doubtless, well remembered. The last assembly adopted 
certain resolutions, which had the unexpected and unintended effect, of 
causing the gentleman then in office to forward his resignation. The 
reasons assigned for the extraordinary step, had, by no means, been suffi¬ 
cient to satisfy Mr. B. that there was any necessity for it. That was a 
question, however, which he freely referred to the tribunal to which it 
properly belonged, the feelings and judgment of the incumbent himself, 
whose right to resign, even as a matter of choice, he would not deny. 
He could have wished that he had done no more than resign. He had 
long borne towards Mr. Rives, the relations of personal friendship, and, 
admiring as he did, his great abilities and high endowments, he had view¬ 
ed, with corresponding regret, what he must consider his capital error on 


11 


the occasion alluded to. He had not contented himself with retiring, but 
proclaiming to the Union, that the assembly of Virginia had misrepre¬ 
sented their constituents, he appealed to the people to sustain him in the 
assertion, and to discard from their service those who had ventured to in¬ 
struct him. The most violent etforts were then made by the presses and 
partizans of the administration to incite the people at the ensuing elections, 
to hurl the obnoxious delegates from their confidence. Approaching the 
people through their attachment to the president and their hostility to the 
bank, they so far succeeded in alarming their apprehensions as to the 
designs of one of the most patriotic assemblies that ever sat in the com¬ 
monwealth, as to secure the defeat of many of its fearless and most faithful 
members. Happily for the country, and to the eternal honor of a just and 
intelligent people, the design was not consummated, and the legislature 
was sustained. Had it proved otherwise, when again would there have 
been an assembly, bold and disinterested enough to encounter the hazards 
of a stand against executive encroachment ? Man was but man, in what¬ 
ever station placed, and comparatively few, even of the most patriotic, 
were willing to be immolated for the sake of a doubtful benefit to their 
country. Let the firm reliance of the assembly, on the support of their 
constituents, be once shaken—let them see that the moral power which 
stood behind them, might readily be turned in hostility against them— 
that, if in their honest zeal to guard the liberties of the people from dan¬ 
ger, they should, in the fallibility of their judgment, fall into error, they 
were to be driven with ignominy from the public service—and their ani¬ 
mating voice would be heard no more, shouting to arms against usurpa¬ 
tion. Mute, inglorious, and trembling for their safety, instead of leaping 
the ditch and leading the way, they would pause on its brink, until the 
people themselves, descrying the danger, should push them on at the 
point of the bayonet. He had regarded it as an axiom of our political 
system, that the state legislatures were the safest guardians of the rights 
of the states, being able, from their character and situation, first to dis¬ 
cover the approach of danger, and possessing the organs of civil power to 
organize a timely opposition. Such was the doctrine of ’98, but the ap¬ 
peal of the senator and the party movement attendant upon it, were found¬ 
ed on the theory that the legislatures were not to pronounce on federal 
affairs, without express authority from their constituents—were not to 
speak until they had first ascertained the precise opinion of the people. 
The old republican doctrine was, that the legislatures were the sentinels 
on the watch-towers, to look out for danger, to sound the alarm to their 
sleeping countrymen, and, if necessary, to be cc the arm of their defence.” 
But the modern plan which was to be carried out in the success of the 
appeal, would convert the people into the sentinels, before whom all should 
be silent until they gave the signal. 

There was another doctrine to be introduced by the appeal, which would 
entitle a public servant at Washington, owing obedience to the legislature, 
to constitute himself the judge how far the delegates had done their duty 
to their constituents. He had always supposed that the relation between 
the constituent and the representative was so direct and intimate, that 
there was neither a necessity nor propriety in the interposition of a third 
party. He could scarcely believe that the people would be flattered by 
the intimation that they required prompting, in order to discover when 
they were misrepresented, or that any individual on earth was better in¬ 
formed of the fact than themselves. It might be that a politician, in his 
closet at Washington, could better estimate the sentiments of the state 
than the collective body of delegates, each representing a small constitu¬ 
ency, immediately accessible, and personally known to him, but the rea¬ 
sonable presumption was certainly to the contrary. He would cheerfully 
allow him his opinions and speculations on the subject, and all the benefits 
of a free and spontaneous action of the people, but an attempt to revolu¬ 
tionize the state, and gain a victory over the legislature, must be produc- 


12 


live of dangerous consequences. A legislature, indeed, might well fear, 
under circumstances that often existed, to enter the lists against so formi¬ 
dable an opponent. Attached to the fortunes of the administration, and 
resisting the legislature for the sake of his party, he would draw to his 
support, in the appeal, the whole influence of the executive department, 
with its numerous presses and dependants, and would either succeed 
through the aid, in a measure, of foreign resources, in reversing the man¬ 
date of the assembly, or in suspending its efficacy for an indefinite length 
of time. 

There was another event more important still, which would have re¬ 
sulted from the overthrow of the last assembly. It would have essentially 
impaired the weight and respectability of future legislative declarations of 
opinion. The time might come when the interposition of the legislature 
would be necessary to stay the encroachments, not of the executive, but 
the general government, or some other of its departments. If encouraged 
by one successful instance, would there not be an appeal in that case also? 
Could it not be plausibly alleged, that experience had shown the liability 
of the assembly to a misconception of the popular will, and that no obedi¬ 
ence or respect was due to their resolutions, until they were clearly sanc¬ 
tioned by the people? It had been contended that two or more trials were 
necessary to ascertain the will of the people concerning the election of a 
senator. How long would it be before an appeal from the legislature, on 
an abstract question, could be finally determined? The state legislatures 
were the only practical checks on the federal government, and the efficacy 
of all pacific measures depended on the moral influence attending them. 
Their declarations of opinion, therefore, should be regarded as sacred and 
inviolable—their legitimacy not only unquestioned but unsuspected. Let 
the people themselves hold their delegates to a just responsibility, but 
allow no third party to interfere. He would not say that they ought to 
sustain them under all circumstances, but he would say, that as against a 
third parly or a foreign power, they ought to sustain them, “ right or 
wrong.” It had been a favorite object with the old federalists to break 
down the influence of the state legislatures, but they had never hit upon 
an expedient so effectual as that which was now in contemplation, of 
making them appear to be at variance with their constituents. He said 
he did not believe the assembly ever had misrepresented the people on 
leading political questions, and he had no fears that they ever would. 
Their edicts, imbodying as they did, the general will, were entitled to 
unqualified respect and obedience. He felt for that capitol, and all that 
emanated from it, a sense of profound awe and reverence. He had passed 
it at early morn, when the first rays of the rising sun were burnishing its 
roof—he had stood beside it at dusky twilight, when its stately form was 
wrapped in shadows, and felt his heart lifted up within him as he traced 
in its grandeur, simplicity and strength, the moral lineaments of that 
proud old commonwealth, of which it stood the perfect emblem. It was 
within the walls of that noble pile, the character of the state had received 
its impress, and it was there the citizen should look for the counsels which 
w’ere to guide him in the duty of perpetuating it. It w r as there his faith 
and loyalty were due,—and there, upon that shrine, within that temple, 
his fortune, fame and life, if need be, should be offered as a sacrifice for 
the public good. Such was the implicit deference he would exact for the 
mandates of the legislature, which was but a mirror, reflecting the will 
and wisdom of the people, and in deciding the issue on which it was ar¬ 
raigned, the trial of which, though begun at the spring elections, remained 
to be consummated on that day, he would prove to the unfilial that if they 
might hope to be forgiven, they must not expect to be rewarded. 

Mr. B. said that Mr. Leigh had been censured for opposing the admin¬ 
istration with too much warmth, and in order to determine how far he 
merited condemnation on that ground, it would be necessary to consider 
the opinion of the state he represented in regard to that administration. 


✓ 


13 


The active part Virginia had borne in the elevation and support of presi* 
dent Jackson, was too well known to require recital, but that her position 
towards him was materially changed, he believed would scarcely be de¬ 
nied. It had been alleged, indeed, by his thorough adherents as late as 
the last spring, in the “ minority address,” that he “ sustains every prin¬ 
ciple we hold dear.” But whilst he readily admitted that many of the 
leading measures of his administration had been highly acceptable to 
Virginia, there was but little coincidence in regard to the principle on 
which they were based. He had vetoed the bank bill, and this state ap¬ 
plauded him for it—no one had done so more cordially than himself—but 
yet in that very veto message, the effect of which was so desirable, he had 
placed his objections, rather on the organization of the existing bank, than 
on the broad Virginia ground of the unconstitutionality of any national 
bank, as the following extract from the message would show: “That a 
bank of the United States, competent to all duties which may be required 
by the government, might be so organized as not to infringe on our dele¬ 
gated powers, or the reserved rights of the states, I do not entertain a 
doubt. Had the executive been called upon to furnish the project of such 
an institution, the duty would have been cheerfully performed.” It was 
said the president had latterly come to the V irginia ground, and he re¬ 
joiced that it Avas so—but justice required that the history of the change 
should be understood. 

When the veto was exerted against the Maysville road bill, Virginia 
exulted in the anticipated arrest of the action of congress on the subject of 
internal improvements—but nevertheless, the reasons assigned in that 
message did not cover the ground she occupied. The president denied 
the authority of congress to make roads and canals w ithin the limits and 
jurisdictions of the states, but admitted the right to appropriate money in 
aid of works undertaken by the states, expressly adopting the rule of 
Mr. Monroe, so much reprobated in Virginia, “ that congress have an 
unlimited power to raise money, and that in its appropriation, they have 
a discretionary power, restricted only by the duty to appropriate it to 
purposes of common defence, and of general, not local, national, nor state 
benefit.” The old states rights doctrine was, that “ the particular mea¬ 
sure must be within the enumerated authorities vested in congress,” or 
the appropriation of money to be applied to it, could not be made. The 
benefits expected from the Maysville veto had not been fully realized. 
The president had said in that message, “ although I might not feel it to 
be my official duty to interpose the executive veto to the passage of a bill 
appropriating money for the construction of such works as are authorised 
by the states and are national in their character, 1 do not Avish to be un¬ 
derstood as expressing an opinion that it is expedient, at this time, for the 
general government to embark in a system of this kind.” He recom¬ 
mended that such action should be postponed until the payment of the 
national debt—that it should then be restricted to improvements of a 
national character—and that the mode of making appropriations be set¬ 
tled by constitutional regulations. In the face of these expositions which 
Avere substantially reaffirmed in the last annual message, appropriations 
had been made to an immense amount, and the patronage of the executive 
greatly increased in the exercise of the discretion of drawing the line be- 
tAveen national and local Avorks; Avhereby the fate of every such bill de¬ 
pended on the president’s construction of what constituted, nationality. 
In the annual message of December last, a neAv doctrine Avas broached, 
still more at variance Avith that of Virginia. It Avas then claimed that 
congress might make certain improvements independent of the state au¬ 
thorities, for removing obstructions in navigable rivers “ below ports of 
entry or delivery established by laAV.” Under the operation of this rule, 
congress might fix the port of entry a thousand feet above tide water and 
then improve the stream beloAV. Richmond being a port of entry, the 
James River might be deepened for ships of the sea,—a measure hitherto 


14 


opposed in Virginia; and an act declaring Lynchburg a port, would con¬ 
fer on congress the authority to open the river to that point also. 

Mr. B. said he had not referred to those measures as being the grounds 
of the opposition in this state against the present administration. There 
was much in them to condemn and much to approve, and knowing as he 
did the opinions prevalent in other states, he was not prepared to say that 
the president, on these subjects, could have gone farther than he had done 
in resisting the mischievous action of congress. Still it was proper it 
should be understood that he had not sustained “ every principle we hold 
dear.” The decline of the public confidence in the administration might 
properly be referred to the issuing of the proclamation. 

Up to the period of the appearance of that ill-omened paper, the people 
of Virginia had given their approval, not to all, but to most of the measures 
of the administration. A general consternation was created by the pro¬ 
mulgation of doctrines, which, according to the interpretation of most per¬ 
sons, struck an unequivocal blow at the sovereignty of the states, the basis 
of all their power and dignity. He said he was not one of those who had 
hastened to denounce the president for this act. When it was declared 
almost authoritatively, that he had been misapprehended, and that the do¬ 
cument, w hich was certainly an ambiguous one, had been misconstrued, 
he felt himself impelled by a lingering confidence, in an administration he 
had so ardently supported, to await the expected explanation before he 
pronounced a sentence of condemnation. He had endeavored with more 
labor than he had ever bestowed on any subject, to demonstrate the sove¬ 
reignty of the states and their right of secession, whilst he hesitated to fix 
upon the president, the odium of a wilful attack on their rights, which it 
might appear in the end that he did not design. This was the course which 
his judgment and feelings dictated, and he had been happy to find that one 
who had never been known to quail beiore power, the late lamented John 
Randolph, had acted on a similar view of the subject—for, while he assert¬ 
ed his principles in resolutions before the people, he still cherished, until a 
late period, a hope that the president would disclaim the doctrines imputed 
to him, and had visited Washington, as it was believed, from a solicitude 
to contribute to such a result. When, at a period subsequent to the ex¬ 
pression of Mr. B.’s opinions, the message accompanying the force bill, 
was sent to congress, and the doctrine reiterated that no other right of re¬ 
dress belonged to the states in their political capacity, than belonged to any 
other fraction of people, expectation was at an end with him. The pro¬ 
clamation, in his estimation sunk under the weight of the federal construc¬ 
tion of it. The exposition by the official paper, at the close of the ensuing 
summer, unsatisfactory in itself, was too late to change the character of 
the document. As the tree had fallen, so it would lie; and the proclama¬ 
tion would be viewed, through all time, with approbation by the federal¬ 
ists, as the exposition of Andrew Jackson’s creed, and by the state rights 
republicans, with reprobation. 

He said, the next great cause of diminished confidence in the adminis¬ 
tration, was the series of measures by which the equilibrium between the 
several departments of the federal government had been disturbed, and an 
undue power concentrated in the executive. The assumption of power by 
the government, collectively, was much to be deprecated by the states, 
but the concentration of those powers in one department, free from the 
checks of co-ordinate departments, left no safe guard whatever against 
oppression. 

The party which elevated Gen. Jackson to the presidency, contended 
for a cheap and economical government, for the retrenchment of expenses— 
the reduction of offices, and the imposition of no more burthens on the 
people, by taxes, duties, imports or excises, than were absolutely neces¬ 
sary to carry into effect the few and simple powers vested in Congress. 
How little their expectations had been realized, might be seen from the 
fact that the expenditures of the government were enormously increas- 


15 


ed—the number of offices considerably multiplied, and the patronage of the 
executive as the fountain of favor and distribution, greatly augmented. 

The power of appointment and removal from office, under the imposing 
name of reform, had been so exercised as to add much to the influence of 
the executive. The meaning of that term, reform, as understood by the 
Jackson party of 1829, was, that unfaithful public oflicers, who neglected 
their duties, or came down into the arena of politics, and perverted the influ¬ 
ence and emoluments of their offices, for the control of popular elections, so as 
eventually to secure themselves in their seats, ought to be dismissed from the 
public service. The odious doctrine was not maintained at that day, that an 
honest, faithful and capable officer, was to be discharged for opinion’s sake, 
nor that the power of appointment, and removal was to be exercised for the 
reward of the friends and the punishment of the opponents of the executive, 
or with any other than a single eye to the promotion of the public interest. 

Mr. B. said, he did not deny the unity of the executive, or the power of 
its chief, to remove for a sufficient cause, any subordinate officer of what¬ 
ever grade. That doctrine was settled by the republican party, in 1789, 
for reasons which were satisfactory to his mind. But it was never for a 
moment conceived, that the power was to be exercised upon the princi¬ 
ples latterly introduced. It was -intended to enable the president to pre¬ 
serve harmony and efficiency in the executive corps—to maintain capable 
and faithful persons in office—and thus secure the due execution of the 
laws. But it was not imagined that he should displace the officer, in order 
that he might take upon himself the performance of the details of the office. 
It was not imagined that he should dismiss an officer at his will and plea¬ 
sure, without such good and sufficient reasons as would be sustained by an 
impartial public opinion. It was a sound discretion vested in him for pub¬ 
lic purposes, for which he was strictly accountable to the country, and not 
designed in the slightest degree to add to his political power. Mr. Madi¬ 
son, when contending for the unity of the executive, was reported to have 
said, as an evidence that the power was not unlimited, that a capricious or 
wrongful exertion of it would subject the president to impeachment. That, 
said Mr. B. Avas the legitimate and proper exercise of it, which made every 
officer, from the highest to the lowest, feel as independent of the personal 
displeasure of the president, and as little bound to promote his individual 
views, as if he Avere in no way associated with him—Avhich made him feel 
that Avhilst he faithfully discharged the duties of his office, he was perfectly 
secure in the possession of his place, and might enjoy all his rights as a citi¬ 
zen, without offence to his superior. That Avas the abuse of it, Avhich made 
it the instrument of individual oppression—the means of acquiring politi¬ 
cal influence—whether for the person or department of the executive— 
or of. imbodying a numerous corps of dependents, subservient to the capri¬ 
ces or designs of the president and his party. 

The measure which had most aAvakened attention to the alarming in¬ 
crease of executive authority, was that of the removal of the deposites. It 
not only involved an abuse of the power of removal in the dismissal of the 
secretary, but in reference to the object aimed at, it might be called an 
assumption of power over the currency of the country —He said assumption 
ofpoAver—for if the object, Avhich gave character to the means, Avere be¬ 
yond the sphere of executive authority, it Avas quite as perspicuous and cor¬ 
rect to say, that the power employed in its attainment, Avas unlawful or as¬ 
sumed, as it Avas to say that it Avas an abuse of power. Had the deposites 
been removed merely to put them within the control of congress, which in 
the opinion of some, had parted Avith its poAver over them, for the purpose 
of further legislation, whilst it might have been unwise, it would not have 
looked like an effort of the executive to extend the scope of its influence. 
But it was the general impression at the time, warranted, as he thought, 
by the expositions of the president and the secretary of the treasury, that 
it Avas done to demonstrate to congress, the practicability of dispensing 
with the United States Bank, by showing how well the revenue and the 


16 


currency could be managed by the joint efforts of the executive and the 
state banks—a demonstration which, if satisfactory and legal, would have 
equally proved the inutility of further legislation. It did appear to his mind, 
that the object of the executive was not simply to provide, temporarily, a 
fiscal agent to discharge the necessary duties which the United States Bank 
had failed to perform, but to arrange a substitute for the United States Bank 
which should perform the like functions, in all respects, under the control 
of the executive; or in other words, the object was to regulate the curren¬ 
cy—to provide a currency to take the place of the United States bank 
notes—to make a sound paper currency by means of a treasury compact 
with the state banks. Now, even if it were admitted that the power to 
make or to regulate any currency whatever, except that of gold and silver, 
belonged to the federal government, in all its branches, did it belong to the 
executive singly ? The object might have been a desirable one, but had the 
executive authoritydo compass it? The collection, custody and disbursement 
of the revenue was entrusted to the executive, but where was the authority 
for employing the money, whilst in its custody, to effect any object whatso¬ 
ever, not specially pointed out by law ? In the absence of legal provisions, 
the only legitimate incidents of the custody were its safety and convenient 
disbursement; but he understood the executive as claiming the right, in 
virtue of the custody, where the law was silent, to dispose of the revenue, 
during the interval between its collection and disbursement, in such man¬ 
ner as to exert an important influence over the currency of the country— 
a claim of power for which justification had been sought in the past usage 
of the government when no place of deposite was fixed by law. He consi¬ 
dered the executive as being in the actual exercise of that alleged right, 
when it was announced to congress that the experiment was in progress— 
that the arrangements were complete, and that the sufficiency and excel¬ 
lence of the system would soon be demonstrated. It was true, the aspect 
of the case was now altered, and the administration, through its supporters 
in congress, modifying what he understood to be its pretensions in the first 
instance, had recommended legislative provisions, respecting the employ¬ 
ment of the state banks, a measure which Mr. B.—no longer deeming the 
restoration of the deposites desirable—hoped would be adopted, if the trea¬ 
surer were found to need the assistance of banks at all. He would not say 
that recommendation, without which, in the present state of things no legis¬ 
lation on the subject could have been successfully attempted, was a conces¬ 
sion to public opinion, or was not originally intended—but he would de¬ 
clare it as his opinion, that but for the resolutions of the last assembly, 
and the prompt and loud outcry of the people, the design of the movement 
would have been consummated, and the executive have quietly added to 
the sum of its powers the control of the monied concerns of the union. 

Mr. B. said, he knew there were many who, disapproving of the execu¬ 
tive measures, in regard to the removal of the deposites, forbore to express 
their censure from the consideration that it was done for the accomplish¬ 
ment of an object they desired—the overthrow of the United States Bank. 
No rule of action was more dangerous than this—for a vigilant scrutiny, 
not only of the objects but measures of government, was indispensable to 
the preservation of liberty. Encroachment had never yet gained ground, 
but under the plausible pretext of necessity or utility. In a government 
like ours, every legitimate object could be attained by the peaceful action 
of the laws, and whatever other means were resorted to, were essentially re¬ 
volutionary in their nature. When was the doctrine held in Virginia, 
that the end justified the means? When was it held by the republican 
party? Not in the earlier and purer days of our history. An exigency, 
presenting many striking coincidences, existed in the time of the elder 
Adams. The insulting conduct of the French directory had aroused the 
spirit of the nation, and all were arming for the expected conflict. The 
republican party were equally zealous in the cause, but—always watchful 
of their rights—they saw, or thought they saw, a disposition on the part of 



17 


the federalists, to take advantage of the prevailing enthusiasm, which was 
similar to that awakened against the bank, to give an undue strength to 
the executive, by placing the army, navy and treasury at its disposal. In 
all their public meetings therefore—of which one was held in that very 
hall—they resolved on the vindication of the national honor, but at the same 
time protested in the strongest terms against conferring unusual powers on 
the executive, even lor the purpose of repelling invasion. 

Mr. B. said there were many, who in their confidence in the motives 
and objects of Gen. Jackson, seemed to have lost sight of the danger that in 
after times, and in other hands, the powers he claimed might, under the 
countenance of his example, be applied to the injury rather than benefit 
of the country. Mr. Jelferson inculcated a different doctrine; for when 
about to assume the duties of the presidency, he said : “ The first wish of 
my heart is, to see them (the rights of his fellow-citizens,) so guarded as 
to be safe in any hands, and not to depend on the personal disposition of 
the depository ; and I hope this to be practicable as long as the people re¬ 
tain the spirit of freedom.” With no such forbearance did the old repub¬ 
lican party act, even against the venerated Washington, in deference to 
whom they abated not a particle of their rights. When that honored 
president, in reference to Jay’s treaty, sternly denied the right of the 
house of representatives, to defeat a treaty by withholding an appropria¬ 
tion for carrying it into effect, the republican party, led on by Madison, 
Gallatin, Giles and Macon, instead ot tamely submitting to his dictation, 
asserted their privileges, in opposition to his claim of power for the execu¬ 
tive and senate, in broad and spirited resolutions. 

Mr. B. said it was no part of his purpose—no wish of his heart, to do 
injustice to General Jackson. Once for all, he would say, that he be¬ 
lieved him an honest and patriotic man, sincerely desirous of promoting 
the welfare of his country, and but little conscious of the dangerous ten¬ 
dency of many of his acts. He wished he could think that all of his ad¬ 
visers were equally disinterested, but he could not doubt that he had fallen 
under the influence of evil counsels. Was it insulting to the president to 
proclaim that tact, when it was believed by every American citizen, that 
the great and constant mind of Washington—with whom he could not be 
guilty of the adulation of placing General Jackson in comparison—had 
yielded to the ascendancy of Hamilton’s genius. Posterity would render 
to the one the same justice as to the other, in distinguishing the merits of 
their administration from their military and other claims upon the coun¬ 
try. Washington was the founder of the federal school, and was vigo¬ 
rously opposed by the republicans, but the condemnation of his measures, 
admitted by all to have been founded in patriotic designs, had neither 
abated the gratitude of his countrymen, nor dimmed the lustre of his name. 
Could General Jackson hope for more—demand to be thought wise as 
well as patriotic—and challenge that toleration and submission for his 
errors, which was denied to the “ lather of his country?” 

Mr. B. said, he gave him his cordial gratitude for his military ser¬ 
vices—he would not tarnish a leaf of the laurel his country had bound 
around his brows—he hoped he would retire at the end of his term with 
the kindest sentiments of all, and fill up the measure of his days in peace 
and dignity. But if it were required that the forms of our institutions and 
the principles of our government should be yielded, without remonstrance, 
at his bidding—if the voice of liberty must be hushed in this land, lest its 
murmurs might break the charm of his infallibility—if the constitution 
must be broken in pieces, and its glittering ruins strown along his path, 
to add to the pomp and pageantry of his triumph, he for one, would not 
be found contributing to the idolatrous offering. He would rather turn 
him aside and weep over the early degeneracy that could so soon consign 
to the fate of all that had gone before it, this young republic, which was 
to the expectant nations of the earth, the object of so much hope and pro¬ 
mise. Virginia would not be found contributing to such a sacrifice. Shei 
3 


18 


would give a just and candid construction to all the acts of the adminis¬ 
tration—supporting them when right,and condemning them when wrong— 
waging, on the one hand, no factious and indiscriminate opposition, and 
disdaining, on the other, a passive acquiescence under encroachment. 

Mr. B. said, that some who admitted that Virginia ought to maintain 
an independent opposition, objected that Mr. Leigh outstripped her in 
violence. But suppose it were acknowledged, was it a reason for ejecting 
him from his seat in times like the present? Was he not, at least, erring 
on the safer side, when the order of the day was subserviency to power? 
Look, he said, at Maine, at New Jersey, at Louisiana, and see how fast 
the opponents of the administration in the senate, were perishing under its 
frowns. Look at the proceedings of North Carolina, Alabama, New 
Jersey, Mississippi, and see with what ruthless violence all were to be 
driven from their seats who dared to raise their voices against the execu¬ 
tive. Suppose that we should follow the example, and carry it out to its 
full dimensions, what would then be the condition of the government? 
Every member of the executive corps, the devoted adherent of the pre¬ 
sident ; every member of the senate—of the house of representatives—of 
the supreme court; every officer, legislative, executive and judicial, of 
the government of every state in the union, and of every petty munici¬ 
pality in the states, chosen for his attachment to the president;—let the 
chief of this countless host issue his edict, and be it what it might, it would 
instantly be registered by all his satellites. With not more rapidity could 
the blood spring from his heart, and course its way to the remotest veins 
in his frame, than would his commands be circulated throughout this or¬ 
ganized arterial system of party. Would it be said that the representa¬ 
tives and others, though chosen as adherents of the president, might still 
be impartial and independent of his will? The history of party proved the 
contrary,—the frailty of human nature forbade it. Even if willing to 
throw off their trammels, who could venture, in such a presence, upon 
the step, without the certainty of instant immolation from his enraged 
associates? Would it be said that the people might discharge the whole 
band whenever they became inimical to liberty? Alas! there would be no 
sentinel upon the watch, to tell the people that danger was at hand. The 
people themselves could scarcely prevail in a contest with so formidable a 
force, disciplined, organized, and in possession of the power and resources of 
the government. Those checks and balances, which existed under all free 
institutions, of a two-fold character, in countervailing departments, and 
conflicting wills in each department, would be utterly destroyed under 
such a system. Would it not, in truth, be a practical monarchy, under 
the forms of a republic? Would it not be a single will, unobstructed in 
all its channels—whose slightest whisper would be echoed back from 
every long-drawn recess of the palace, where silence reigned, uninter¬ 
rupted by the timid and muffled step of the slave? Let there be, he said, 
one voice, at least, eloquent always in the cause of freedom, to break the 
stillness of the solitude. The diversities of opinion that existed among 
men, were productive of the most beneficial effects. The discussions and 
struggles which grew out of them, brought to light new truths in sci¬ 
ence—new lessons of wisdom—new precepts in morality and govern¬ 
ment. The principle of contrast and conflict, was visible in all creation— 
in the endless variety of form and habit—in the contending passions—in 
the warring elements—illustrating even to the finite views of man, that 
throughout the w'orks of nature, “ all discord is harmony not understood.” 
Should man alone strive to divest the works of his hand, of the salutary 
principle? It might be said there would always be opposition in the 
senate—but whence would it come? If it were right in Virginia to with¬ 
hold her unit, why should not every other state do the same? Let there be 
one, he repeated, to cry aloud against the growing abuses of authority. 
If the cry were just, it would scarcely prevail—if unjust, it assuredly 
would not. Let there be one to do for General Jackson, amidst the crowd 


19 


of his flatterers, what a philosopher of old, required of his servant-—to 
tell him daily that he is mortal. 

Mr. B. said, the opposition of the present day, was not against General 
Jackson, neither against his person nor his character—he might almost 
add, not against his administration, which must last to the end of his term, 
and could last no longer. Such of his measures as Virginia disapproved, 
she would oppose, but as it was beyond her power to take the administra¬ 
tion out of his hands, she could have no national object in regard to it, but 
to bring it so far as her influence might enable her, to a successful close. 
The true subject of inquiry now was, who should be his successor—upon 
whom should the mantle of Elijah fall. She must content herself with 
protesting against General Jackson’s measures, but she would look well to 
the principles upon which the government was to be conducted in the 
hands of his successor. 

The signs of the times seemed to have marked Mr. Van Buren as the 
man, and the practical question now pending was, whether he should have 
the support of Virginia. 

He said he knew nothing of Mr. Van Buren personally, and should 
therefore say nothing. He had supported him for the vice presidency at a 
time when he thought him injured, and when he was almost identified 
with the administration of General Jackson, whose measures, up to that 
period, Mr. B. had approved. Was he bound, in consistency, to support 
him also for the presidency? In the logic of party, such might be the con¬ 
clusion, but he had arrived at a different one, and should always stop, in 
any cause, precisely at the point where he found himself wrong. There 
were public considerations of policy and principle, which called impera¬ 
tively on Virginia to oppose the election of Mr. Van Buren. The first, 
and not the least, of the evils to be anticipated from his success, would be 
the introduction into the state of that terrible system of party tactics, 
known to be in full operation in New York, and already advancing under 
the auspices of Mr. Van Buren, into the wide field of the union. It was 
that system which disturbed society by the perpetual and deadly conflicts 
of rival aspirants, who, to effect their ambitious purposes, combined the 
people into opposing factions, and kept them in subordination by a complex 
series of agencies and influences, which, from the certainty and force of 
their operations, well deserved to be styled machinery. The result was, 
that the victor party being installed in the possession of their honors, dis¬ 
missed their opponents from every office, and assumed the entire control of 
the government into their own hands. The spheres of influence in the 
structure of the party, gradually lessening from the most numerous class, 
on which the whole rested, terminated in a single head, or in a small cabal, 
w hich exercised the supreme control. The spirit of party being the ruling 
passion of the human bosom, created an invisible sympathy throughout 
the whole system, which rendered it obedient and true to the master im¬ 
pulse. There were ostensible checks in the divisions of authority among 
legislative, executive, and judicial departments, but the party influence, 
radiating from the summit, shot down through the whole, with as little ob¬ 
struction as a ray of light through a dense, but transparent medium. It 
was, in short, the assemblage of all the powers of government in a party, 
and then the further concentration of it in its leader. 

The application of this system to the general government, would vest 
all power in a national party, of which the president would be the chief, 
it would be, in practice, as complete a consolidation of the powers of the 
states, as if the constitution were amended, and their boundary lines 
obliterated. The immense resources of any party, wielding the patron¬ 
age of the general government, could scarcely fail to secure its dominion ; 
but a party upheld by the additional power of the great state of New 
York, must constitute a perpetual dynasty. Let the reins of power be de¬ 
livered over to that state, to be managed according to her well known sys¬ 
tem, and her great electoral strength, already equal to forty-two votes, and 


i>0 


rapidly increasing, would enable her, forever, to retain the presidency, and 
through the president, who would be but her representative, to give law to 
the union. What, then, it would be asked, was New York to be disfran¬ 
chised, and never allowed to furnish a president? Not so—he would re¬ 
spond. With reasonable assurances that a New York president would 
administer the government, in the spirit of the constitution, according to 
the true theory of our federative system, he should no more object to him 
than to one that came from Delaware. But whilst there was cause to be¬ 
lieve, what could scarcely be doubted, that her president would be the pre¬ 
sident of a party, and not of the nation, she could not but expect opposi¬ 
tion. Virginia had furnished many presidents, but did they not, by the 
amalgamation of parties, become the presidents of the nation? Had they 
any party but their country? Did they seek the aggrandizement of any 
state, but the Union ? W hen a New York president promised as much, he 
would cheerfully accept him. 

He said there was but little consolation in the fact that the national party 
which Mr. Van Buren was expected to wield, was claimed as a democra¬ 
tic party. It was more than a set-off for that merit that it was also to be 
a consolidated party. The Virginia portion of it could exert no effective 
influence over it, or offer any check for the protection of sectional interests. 
He hoped the principles of democracy might ever maintain their ascendan¬ 
cy—but he wished to see a confederated democratic party, not a consolida¬ 
ted national one. He wished to see democratic parties in every state, 
revolving each around its own orbit, co-operating upon general principles, 
and held together by the same ties with which the states were confedera¬ 
ted—but he wished not to see them amalgamated with none but a common 
centre of attraction in the presidency of the United States,—for, in addi¬ 
tion to numberless other evils, it would put at hazard the local and peculiar 
interests of the states. 

What reason was there, he asked, for the belief that Mr. Van Buren’s 
administration would even be a democratic one. It was of little conse¬ 
quence, what opinions he had expressed himself, for his administration 
would, for reasons easily conceived, take its complexion from the power¬ 
ful state on which he relied for support. Of the democracy of New York, 
he was wholly ignorant, for he had never been able to comprehend the prin¬ 
ciples involved in their combinations. But in national elections, when the 
republican party was in danger, they had seldom come to the rescue. 
There were but three contests of any magnitude, prior to the close of Mr. 
Monroe’s administration. In that of 1797, New York, voted for Adams 
and Pinckney, in opposition to Mr. Jefferson. In 1800, with her citizen 
Burr on the ticket, she voted for it, he supposed, for the purpose in good 
faith, though a contrary design was entertained by others, of making Mr. 
Jefferson president. In 1812, she brought forward and supported De W itt 
Clinton, against the republican candidate James Madison. Those refer¬ 
ences, he said, might not prove her inimical to republicanism—but they 
left her but little reason to boast of what she had done for the cause. 

Mr. B. said, the circumstance that New York Avas a powerful state, by 
no means amounted to an assurance, as he had heard suggested, that she 
would therefore be interested, if the administration Avere placed in her 
hands, in guarding the rights of the states. She might be pleased at go¬ 
verning herself, but she Avould be still more pleased at governing the rest 
of the states, through the medium of the presidency. Having the engine 
in her OAvn hands, the more power she could impart to it, the more effec¬ 
tually could she subject the rights and interests of the states to her OAvn 
aggrandizement. lie feared, indeed, she Avould make that engine the 
Avheel of Ixion to the southern states. Her position in the union Avould 
make it her interest to extend her connexions in a different direction. She 
Avas opening her communications Avith the “ far west,” and would shortly 
establish the closest relations Avith that extensive and fertile region, to 
vvhich she had access through the lakes. New England Avould soon be 


brought under her influence, through the medium of her commerce, which 
had already made Boston tributary to her. Here, then, lie said, was the 
seat o( her future empire, stretching from the ocean to the distant lakes, 
and combining strength enough to secure to her forever, the power of the 
central government. Would she not, in the prosecution of her interests, 
make that power press with a colossal weight upon the southern states, 
robbing them of the fruits of their industry and drying up the sources of 
their prosperity ? All commercial regulations would be made to confirm 
her in the exclusive possession of the import trade, and virtually to close 
the ports of the south, against all intercourse, except with herself. Mo¬ 
nopolizing the whole commercial profit, and benefitted by the revenue col¬ 
lected in her port, she would readily impose a high tariff, as she did in 
IS28, and conciliate the favor of her western allies by expending the pro¬ 
ceeds in roads and canals, to multiply the channels of communication 
between them. The currency of the country would be brought under her 
control, and whether with or without a bank of the United States, having 
the whole union indebted to her, and bills or notes payable at her city, bear¬ 
ing a premium every where, the circulating medium, with all its advanta¬ 
ges, would centre in her banks. The plantation states, whose true policy 
was a free and unrestricted trade, sacrificed to the interests of the north 
and west, and virtually sunk into tributary provinces, would be left in the 
enjoyment of the poor privilege of selling their produce and buying their 
goods at New York, on condition of paying for it a premium sufficient to 
enrich their oppressors and beggar themselves. 

Such was the state of things with which he believed the country was 
threatened, and the prostration of Mr. Leigh and every other distinguish¬ 
ed \ irginian who took a similar stand against it, was one of the means by 
which the way was to be smoothed for its introduction. Omens of change 
in our established usages, indicating the approach of a new era in politics, 
were already visible, and in nothing more palpably than in the mode of 
managing elections Hitherto candidates had been brought out by the 
force of public opinion alone. When a vacancy was to be filled,neighbor 
consulted with neighbor, and the matter was discussed by the fireside and 
in the court-yard, without form or concert, until at length, the gathering 
sentiment assumed a perceptible shape, and drew forth some strong mind¬ 
ed farmer, some modest youth of merit and promise, or, if the occasion 
required it, some retired veteran, consenting for a season to buckle on his 
rusty armor. The unworthy might sometimes thrust themselves forward, 
but a quiet neglect and a signal failure convinced them that they had 
mistaken their position in the community. Opinion was divided of course, 
and contests were warm, but they turned upon the respective merits and 
principles of the candidates. Private character and personal worth had 
their just weight, and whoever w f as successful, might not be the wisest, 
but was sure to be the individual man whom, all things considered, a 
majority preferred as their representative. But now the aspect of things 
was changing, and no election, from the presidency down to the lowest 
office, could be accomplished without the agency of a convention. Was 
a member of congress to be chosen, there must be a district convention— 
was a delegate to be elected, there must be a county convention, in order 
to tell the good people whom they must vote for. A few busy politicians, 
professing to act for the people and manage the concerns of a party, in 
effect, dictated to those whom they seemed to represent. Irresponsible 
and generally self-constituted, they marked out the plan of the campaign, 
selected their own favorite as the candidate, decreed him orthodox, and 
then called upon the faithful, under pain of excommunication, to come to 
his support. The only questions left for the voter to decide were, whether 
he himself belonged to the party, and who was the party’s candidate. No 
inquiries need be made about the private worth and intellectual fitness of 
the individual, or of the claims and merits of his competitors. He had 
the nomination, and was right upon the topic which “ ruled the hour.” 


That was sufficient, and he who should prove so contumacious as to cling 
to the man of’ his choice, would soon find that he had not only lost caste 
with his party, but thrown away his vote. He would soon find, that 
whilst the semblance of a discretion was left him, the privilege Avas sub¬ 
stantially gone, and that he must take the nominee of the party, or take 
none. Let this system be once introduced—and if adopted by one party, 
it Avould be by the other in self-defence—and we might bid adieu to that 
era of practical liberty, when the voter looked around him and chose his 
representative, in the same mode in which he walked into the forest and 
selected a piece of timber, for some implement of husbandry. We might 
bid adieu to the good old days of visits to the voters, and speeches from 
the hustings, so long the cherished customs of Virginia. In New York, 
where the nomination system prevailed, and had been carried out into its 
natural consequences, such a thing as a stump speech was never heard of. 
The candidates were neither seen nor known by nine-tenths of the voters. 
Why should they be, when every party man Avas pre-determined to sup¬ 
port them, though an acquaintance with them should satisfy him they 
were knaves, and the hearing them should prove that they held no princi¬ 
ple in common with himself? Having intrigued successfully Avith the 
leaders, and gained the nomination, no matter what their follies or vices, 
they Avere sure of the election, provided their party A\ r ere stronger than 
the opposing one. To retain their places, it Avas only requisite to pre¬ 
serve the favor of the leaders; and to secure that, they might sacrifice, 
Avith impunity, the people, their principles, and their country. 

Mr. B. said he avus not so visionary as to hope for the extinction of 
party spirit. Indeed, to a reasonable extent, he Avas not opposed to party 
combinations, which Avere generally necessary in infusing correct princi¬ 
ples into the administration of public affairs. The agitations Avhich ordi¬ 
narily greAv out of the struggles of party, when confined within moderate 
bounds, and involving measures instead of men, were not to be deprecated. 
They Avere inseparable from the operations of a free government, and had 
a healthful and purifying tendency, in keeping alive the spirit of liberty 
and of vigilant inquiry into the acts and principles of public functionaries. 
He did not look Avith that despair, which some had confessed, at the ex¬ 
cesses which seemed at times to threaten the very existence of our institu¬ 
tions. There must be tempests and whirlwinds occasionally, in a demo¬ 
cratic atmosphere, and the ship of state might be tossed Avith fearful vio¬ 
lence, on the Avaves of faction, but still it floated, and he trusted Avould 
forever float. The stately r fabric of republicanism Avas often shaken to its 
deep foundations, yet still it stood, and would, he hoped, forever stand: 
“ ruitura que semper, stat mirum ! moles!” He Avas not, he repeated, op¬ 
posed to party concert to a proper extent, but the discipline he approved of 
was more nearly allied to that of the militia system, than the regular ser¬ 
vice. When war was raging and the enemy at hand, every good citizen 
should stand to his arms; but the invader repelled and peace restored, let 
him beat his SAvord into a ploughshare, and resume his usual pursuits. So 
when some great principle of human right was in danger, let the votaries 
of liberty come to the rescue, shoulder to shoulder, with a fixed resolve to 
do or die: but the object being accomplished, and the principle re-establish¬ 
ed on a firmer basis, let them disband their forces, and Avatch the course of 
events from their fire-sides. Let them do more, let them proclaim a gene¬ 
ral amnesty, as Mr. Jefferson did after his triumph in 1800, for past differ¬ 
ences, Avith thoie who, although lately enemies, Avere at length friends. 
Without this redeeming quality of conciliation, after victory, the conflicts 
of party must ahvays be deadly and merciless; for there was no one con¬ 
sideration calculated to infuse into the struggle so imbittered and desperate 
a spirit, as the conviction that the vanquished would not only be despoiled 
by the victors, but through all future lime, proscribed and excluded from 
an honorable participation in the service of the country. But let it be 
understood, that men may differ and contend on some questions, without 


23 


being disqualified for co-operation in other matters, and a temper of 
charity and toleration, perfectly consistent with a due efficiency, would at 
once be given to political contests. He knew that many looked with 
something like contempt on the primitive appearance and imperfect organi¬ 
zation of a militia corps, and could find cause of ridicule in their “ piebald’* 
garments, and various armor of pikes, cutlasses and pistols, snatched up 
for the occasion. The spectacle, however, never failed to command from 
him a ready tribute of respect, for it seemed to be a spontaneous gathering 
of the best elements of society, brought about by no mercenary motives, 
but by the stimulus of patriotism, acting under a sense of immediate dan¬ 
ger, with such weapons as could be procured at the moment. On the 
other hand, he had but little admiration for the regular troops, who were 
held together through the influence of the bounty, nor did he see any merit 
in their exact uniformity. Nature had ordained that men should differ, in 
person, in opinion, and in action, and when they were made to bear a per¬ 
fect similitude, and to move, at all times, with absolute precision, it looked 
to him more like a set of machinery, worked by some superior intelli¬ 
gence, than an array of human beings and free agents. He entered his 
protest against standing armies and train-band parties; for however use¬ 
ful in a single emergency, they were too apt, when kept long on foot, to 
turn their weapons against the liberties they were entrusted to defend. 

This terrible system, he said, was entering our borders, and the most 
active measures were in operation for its favorable reception. The inno¬ 
vation was already perceptible in this good old commonwealth, which had 
so long escaped the scourge of party spirit. The poison was rapidly pene¬ 
trating into her veins—the shirt of Nessus was upon her shoulders, and 
she writhed even now, under the agonies of approaching madness. All 
who, like himself, looked with horror upon the malady, must come to the 
relief, and speedily too, or their friendly offices would be of no avail. His 
own precept or example, he was sensible, would be of little consequence, 
but such as it was, it should be faithfully contributed to the object in view. 
The surest mode he thought of arresting the evil was, by winning the pub¬ 
lic confidence in the designs of the opposing party, assuaging the general 
irritation, by a moderate and firm course, and carefully avoiding even the 
appearance of practising what was so earnestly deprecated in others. Act¬ 
ing upon this theory, it had been his misfortune to be separated on several 
occasions, in relation rather to men than measures, from that patriotic 
party which was aiming at the same common objects with himself. Much 
as he respected the party and the opinions of individuals who composed it, 
he could not yield his own clear convictions of duty and expediency, 
although fully aware of the danger he incurred of misconstruction. Even 
under our comparatively mild system of party discipline, no man of what¬ 
ever elevation of purpose, could venture, without extreme hazard, to as¬ 
sume in relation to any given principle, a position independent of both par¬ 
ties, no matter how well defined his attitude might be, or how clear his re¬ 
sponsibility for it. The imputation, freely made from all quarters, either 
of imbecility and want of nerve, or of a selfish design to conciliate oppo¬ 
nents, was the usual reward of genuine independence, and moral courage. 
He would gladly have avoided any allusion to himself or his motives, in 
the part he had acted in recent events, desiring nothing more than that his 
humble course should pass without notice, provided it could also pass with¬ 
out censure. But he had not escaped animadversion, nor did he deem 
himself impenetrable to the shafts of criticism. He w r ould frankly admit 
that in public affairs, he was neither prompt, bold, nor chivalrous, but cau¬ 
tious, hesitating, and ready to retrace his steps when wrong. Perhaps, 
when a few more years had enlarged his stock of information, and shed 
upon his path the lights of experience, he might advance with a more con¬ 
fident gait, and hazard experiments on the well being of communities. 
At present, he was content to tread in the footsteps of those who had gone 
before him —stare super vias antiquas —to move not at all unless the way 


24 


were plain before him. He had no fears of the suspicion that he w as seek¬ 
ing- his own aggrandizement, by endeavoring to please both parties and 
“ gathering golden opinions from all sorts of men,” for he might safely ap¬ 
peal for his vindication, to the whole course of his past life. He had sat for 
some years in that body, and assisted in bestowing many offices He had 
solicited none for himself—he had intimated no wish for any even to his 
bosom friends—lie had countenanced no such suggestion from others. He 
had never applied for an office which he did not obtain. He had sought 
but two, and filled but two. A seat in that house, and a commission in 
the militia, were the full sum of all his honors. He had an ambition, and 
he trusted a laudable one, but it was an ambition that depended for its 
gratification, on no place or grade of promotion, but might be accomplish¬ 
ed in any one station as well as another. It was simply to employ that 
brief portion of his early life which he intended devoting to the public ser¬ 
vice, in such a manner as to secure to himself, in after times, the conscious¬ 
ness on his own part, and the credit among his friends, of having been a 
good, and in some measure, a useful citizen. At the hands of party, he 
had nothing to ask. He was indebted to party for nothing—no, nothing. 
He wished no honors nor rewards from any quarter, that he did not earn, 
and upon such terms, he doubted not, he should receive all that he claim¬ 
ed. Impregnable as he felt himself to be, upon this subject, it was never¬ 
theless painful for a man of sensibility to be compelled to act under cir¬ 
cumstances which afforded the slightest grounds lor doubting the disinte¬ 
restedness of his motives. Several occasions had occurred of late, on which 
he would gladly have shrunk, if he could, from the responsibility of stand¬ 
ing as he had done, almost alone—but he had come there to serve his con¬ 
stituents and his country, not to serve himself, and he did not hesitate as 
to the course he should pursue. He had determined on that, as he trusted 
he should on all occasions, to do his duty, though he might do it trem¬ 
blingly. It was to the considerate, the just, the unimpassioned, that he 
looked for support in the part he acted; and the moment he ascertained 
the opinions of that class of his countrymen were against him, and called 
for more daring and adventurous spirits than himself, he should withdraw 
at once from the theatre of politics. Welcome to him, under such circum¬ 
stances, would be the shades of private life—welcome those scenes in which 
experience had taught him, he should be happier far, pursuing the noiseless 
tenor of his way, in tranquil retirement, sustained by the smiles of an ap¬ 
proving conscience, and the respect of his friends. As long as he conti¬ 
nued to bear a part in public affairs, he should steadfastly adhere to those 
maxims of candor, moderation and firmness, by which he had hitherto been 
governed. He did not aspire to be a leader,—he should generally be a 
willing coadjutor—he could never become the vassal of any party. He 
knew' no safer guide than his own judgment—no higher obligation than 
that of his own conscience—no better monitor than his own heart. Under 
such influences, whenever from accident or other causes, the balance of 
power might fall into his hands, he should lay before him the chart of the 
past—he should look around him for the ancient landmarks, and seizing the 
helm with a firm grasp, he would steer the ship, if he could, along the safe 
and accustomed track, though Charybdis might rage on the one hand, 
and Scylla on the other. 

There were, he said, certain principles of government, for which he 
should always be found contending, and those who labored in the same 
cause, would compose the party of which he claimed to be a member. In 
that sense, he was a party man, and in declaring his devotion to the party 
which upheld those principles, he did no more than evince his attachment 
to the principles themselves. The party he alluded 1o, was that which 
always looked with a jealous eye, on the conduct of rulers, and would not 
only reserve as much power as possible to the people, on the presumption 
that they were capable of self-government, but carefully guard that which 
was reserved, from all encroachment—which held public functionaries to 


25 


be practically responsible for their acts, to an enlightened and impartial 
public opinion, from whose scrutiny they should not be protected by any 
connexion with the press, with monied institutions, or pensioned parti- 
zans which considered the patronage of the executive, involving the power 
of appointment and removal from office, as designed to be used for the pub¬ 
lic good alone, and not as the means of rewarding the friends and punishing 
the enemies of the incumbent: of impairing the freedom of elections through 
the medium of a numerous corps of dependants, or of undermining the in¬ 
dependence of the co-ordinate departments, so as to destroy the checks and 
balances which were wisely provided for the equal operations of the ma¬ 
chine of government—the party which looked to written constitutions as 
the safe-guards of the liberties of the citizen—which would confine the 
government, whether state or federal, within the exact limits of the pow¬ 
ers conferred upon it by the people—which viewed the federal constitution 
as a compact between sovereign states, who being the parties thereto, had 
the right in their sovereign capacity, to judge of infractions, as well as of 
the mode and measure of redress—which believed that the federal govern¬ 
ment possessed no powers, but such as were enumerated, and expressly 
granted in the instrument creating it, construed, literally, according to its 
plain and obvious meaning and intention—that a tariff for protection, inter¬ 
nal improvement by the general government, and a national bank were the 
offspring of a false construction, and wholly unknown to the constitution— 
that the consolidation of power, further than might be necessary for our 
foreign relations in a central government, embracing so extensive a terri- 
tory, and such a diversity of interests, must be ruinous to the prosperity of 
the states; that a sense of mutual interest and affection was the only tie 
by which the union could be held together, and the idea of preserving it by 
force, was mischievous and insulting—the party which regarded the undi¬ 
vided sovereignty of the states as the vital principle of state rights and 
secession or nullification, both of which had their respective advocates, who, 
agreeing as to the right, had ceased to dispute about the method of enforcing 
it, as the proper remedies for an infringement of their liberties—the party 
which believed that the preservation of freedom and the public happiness, 
as well as the existence of the union itself, depended on a faithful obser¬ 
vance of the principles which constitute the basis of our federative system— 
the party, in short, whose creed might be summed up in the words—demo¬ 
cratic state rights republicanism. Those were the principles for which he 
confessed his homage; and that the party whose destinies he was resolved 
to abide. He might not share in its triumphs—he was sure he should not 
in its spoils; for, if successful, its only reward would be the gratitude and 
admiration of the country—he would unavoidably participate in its disas¬ 
ters, if to such it were doomed. Remembering that he had refused, and 
might again, to concur in all the proposed measures for prosecuting the 
contest, he could not flatter himself with the favor of his co-adjutors. He 
should generally be found by their side—he trusted always, when danger 
thickened, and if for his waywardness he must be wounded, or even crush¬ 
ed, he should forgive the injury for the sake of the high and holy enter¬ 
prise. Wronged as he might be, his affections would be with those who 
combatted for the principles of a common adoration. He might stumble 
in the breach, and be trampled in the dust by his bolder comrades, as they 
hurried on to seize the citadel and enjoy the triumph, but his prayers would 
attend them; and should he discover danger approaching—should he see 
the match lighted to fire the train that might bury fortresses and victors in 
a hideous ruin, like the wounded French soldier, he would crawl to it if 
he could, and extinguish it with his blood. 

But he augured for that party a higher and better fate. It was now 
actively devoted to the all important object of checking the alarming in¬ 
crease of the influence of the federal executive, of preserving the constitu¬ 
tional distribution of powers between the several departments of the federal 
government, and preventing the succession of those whose known system 
4 


♦ 


26 


of administration would practically concentrate all authority in the presi¬ 
dency; upon this ground, they had been joined by the national republicans, 
who not always mindful of the usurpations of the federal legislature on the 
rights of the states, had been aroused by the startling encroachments of 
the federal executive, and nobly taken their stand with the state rights 
party, in defence of constitutional liberty and practical freedom. He ho¬ 
nored them for it—he hailed them unequivocally as friends and brothers in 
a holy cause, and indulged the confident hope, that, taught by recent ex¬ 
perience, the necessity of a rigid limitation of the powers of government, 
and a careful abstinence, by all departments and authorities, from the exer¬ 
cise of doubtful powers, they would embrace the essential doctrines of the 
school of strict constructionists, and thenceforth lose their distinctive tenets 
in the great family of democratic state rights republicans. 

Nor were these the only allies that might be expected. They would 
soon receive an immense accession from the ranks of the administration 
party. A large proportion of that division had adhered to their old asso¬ 
ciations, partly from a distrust of the designs of the opposition, and partly 
from their reluctance to censure a president, whose motives they respected, 
however much they doubted his measures. They were as ardently at¬ 
tached to the principles of liberty as those who had moved more promptly 
in its pursuit, and the moment they were assured it was no factious clamor, 
but a just, patriotic and disinterested effort to check the progress of inno¬ 
vation—more especially when they discovered the character of the admi¬ 
nistration which was about to be forced upon them in succession to the 
present, he could not doubt they would hasten to recruit the ranks of the 
opposition. And would they not see the principle which was involved, in 
spite of the efforts which were made to conceal it? In disregard of the 
warning voice of experience, in every age and every nation, the attempt 
was made to disseminate the idea that, under our government, the execu¬ 
tive department was the safest depository of power. The minority of the 
last assembly, in their celebrated address, had used the following ominous 
language:—“Now, fellow-citizens, if your government, at the time Jack- 
son came into power, was a despotism, and your own testimony shows that 
it was, can it make any difference with you, whether that despotism be ex¬ 
ercised by one or many ? Suppose the state of things changed—suppose the 
government, instead of being in a majority of congress, is in the execu¬ 
tive—suppose that despotic power has been transferred from the hundred¬ 
headed monster—that bellua centiceps —congress—over to the executive— 
what difference can it make with you? If you are to be slaves, had you 
not as soon be subject to one master as to three hundred—indeed, would 
you not prefer the tyranny of one man to the tyranny of a multitude?” He 
knew not whence that doctrine came, which inculcated a dread of the 
sway of the multitude—which urged the benignity of a single ruler, and 
taught that the representatives of the people were not the most trusty 
guardians of their rights. Let no man say it was from the school of Jef¬ 
ferson, for that apostle of republicanism had uttered no such sentiment. 
Let him speak for himself, in an extract of a letter written by him on the 
4th September, 1800, on the eve of his memorable triumph—“ the great 
question which divides our citizens is, whether it is safest that a preponder¬ 
ance of power should be lodged with the monarchial or the republican 
branch of our government. Temporary panics may produce advocates 
for the former opinion, even in this country: but the opinion will be as 
short-lived as the panic with the great mass of our fellow-citizens. There 
is one circumstance which will always bring them to right; a preponder¬ 
ance of the executive over the legislative branch cannot be maintained but 
by immense patronage, by multiplying offices, making them very lucra¬ 
tive, by armies, navies, &c., which may enlist on the side of the patron, all 
those whom he can interest, and all their families and connections; but 
these expenses must be paid by the laboring citizen; he cannot long con¬ 
tinue, therefore, the advocate of opinions, which to say only the least of 


27 


them, doom the laboring citizen to toil and sweat, for useless pageants.” 
Here, he said, was the “ great question” of 1800, lucidly stated by the 
master spirit of that civil revolution—and who could look around him, at 
things as they were, and not admit that the same question had recurred in 
our day? Was not the presidency every thing, and congress nothing? 
Was not the executive at one moment denying by proclamation, the so¬ 
vereignty of the states, and branding the citizens who bore allegiance to 
them, as traitors—at the next, hurling denunciations at a co-ordinate de¬ 
partment for having dared to express an opinion about its powers? Had 
not the executive sustained itself rather as the head of a party than as the 
head of the nation, and employed the power of appointment and removal 
from office, the increase of expenditure, and the multiplication of salaries, 
as the means of strengthening and consolidating that party which in prac¬ 
tice, had absorbed all the power of the government? Had it not, in view 
of all this, been announced from our capitol, in the address of a respecta¬ 
ble number of delegates, that the federal executive was a safer depository 
of power than the immediate representatives of the people? Let the calm 
and unimpassioned reflect on these events, and say whether the opposition 
did not stand on the holy ground of 1800. Let the members of that party 
take heart at the assurance, and in the hour of their discouragement, look 
to that living instance of triumphant opposition to reanimate their spirits 
and arouse them from despair. They had been threatened, it was true, 
with the vengeance of the people, but he would warn those who had invok¬ 
ed the storm, to beware, that it burst not on their own heads. They were 
the federalists of the present day, and they the objects of republican indig¬ 
nation, who were promoting that “ long cherished federal purpose, (as Mr. 
Jefferson termed it) of strengthening the executive and general govern¬ 
ment.” The people would hesitate long—they would weigh well the 
designs and professions of the opposition, before they took part against 
those who “did battle” in the name of liberty. They would see, on the 
one hand, a disciplined host, victorious in every field, but this—entrench¬ 
ed behind a popular name—animated by the sunshine of executive favor— 
sustained by the influence of a boundless patronage, and almost courting 
death, from the hope that all who fell under the banner of the prophet, 
should be caught up at once, into the bosom of Paradise. They would 
see, on the other hand, the forlorn hope of a revered cause—separated, vo¬ 
luntarily, from a dominant party, whose fortunes they might have conti¬ 
nued to share—staggering under the weight of overwhelming power, with 
no voice to cheer, and no arm to save—sinking, one after another, into the 
deep, deep sea of popular displeasure, but preserving a spirit as untamed 
as the winds, and shouting, as the gurgling waters closed over them, for 
democracy, the constitution, state rights, liberty. And would Virginia 
assist in the inglorious work of prostrating the weak at the mercy of the 
strong? Would she, proverbial for her impatience under dictation—for 
her inborn hatred of encroachment or exaction—become the submissive 
instrument of executive will, and immolate those who upheld the princi¬ 
ples which her whole history had taught them to revere? Would she, 
whose armorial device was the goddess of liberty, with lion heart and 
eagle eye, the usurper prostrate beneath her feet, the crimson steel in her 
uplifted hand, and the burning words, “ thus be it ever to Tyrants,” on 
her lips—would she be found among the advocates of power, in the igno¬ 
ble contest against human right? No—no—it would not be—it could not 
be. Her pride of lineage forbade it—respect for the principles which had 
immortalized her statesmen,—respect for the recorded honors of her name, 
the memory of the past, the hopes of the future, all forbade it. She would 
be found,—where she had ever been found—on the side of “ liberty regu¬ 
lated by law”—and she would tell to the union, trumpet-tongued, that 
“ Virginia is what Virginia was.” 

In the memorable year of '75, when the committee of safety, appointed 
by the house of Burgesses, sat at Hanover-town, with Edmund Pendle- 


BR 


ARY OF CONGRESS 


0 028 070 955 4 


28 


ton and George Mason at their head, they recommended it to the several 
county committees, in addition to arms, munitions and other equipments 
to provide a stand of colors, with the number of the military district on 
one side, and the words " Virginia, for constitutional liberty ” on the other 
This was the first standard which the state erected in defiance of the power 
and pride of England. It had long since given place (o (he stars and 
stripes of the union. Virginia had confided her dearest interests to the 
guardianship of the federal government, and whilst the trust was faithfully 
executed, she would be true and loyal to her engagements. But let the 
precious deposit be in danger—let the charter of her rights be no longer 
respected, and the flag of Hanover-town would again be uplifted—and the 
ra .7 m ft cry again be, as it was in the days of yore, “ Virginia, for con¬ 
stitutional liberty. 1 hat banner might fall—its simple drapery might 
be hidden under the ample folds of the gorgeous ensign of the union. It 
might sink under the blows of the federal legislature, or the still stronger 
arm of the federal executive. Nay, the people themselves, in a moment 
ot passion and delusion, in their very enthusiasm tor liberty in the holy 
name of patriotism, might strike to earth the emblem which gladdened the 
sight, and cheered the hearts of their sturdy old forefathers. It might go 
down—but this he knew full well, that go down when it might, there was 
many a noble and gallant spirit who would go down with it. 














